


Collar and Lead

by dazzler



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 3.2 Spoilers, Alcohol, Boot Worship, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6133504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzler/pseuds/dazzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of nsfw Emmcred drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

> I was expecting this pairing to become more popular after 3.2... I wanted fic of them wrecking each other, like, sexually. They're a hot mess.

Emmanellain knocked on the door, tapping his foot on the wood floor and casting a nervous glance down the hall every now and then. Thancred had declined lodging at the Fortemps manor with the other Scions, instead opting for a room at the Forgotten Knight, so Emmanellain had tracked Tataru down and gotten his room number from her. 

After what seemed an age, Thancred opened the door, looking a little bleary-eyed--no doubt still recovering from the celebrations the night before. 

“You?” he said. Emmanellain cleared his throat and drew himself up to his full height, which was a fair bit taller than Thancred. 

“Yes, ‘tis I. May I come in?” he asked. Thancred opened the door a little wider and shuffled aside to let Emmanellain through. “I have something for you.” 

He handed Thancred the box that he had Honoroit prepare earlier. “As thanks for helping with the conference and dealing with the cyclops during the Grand Melee.” 

Thancred opened it and a black coat spilled out, long and sleek. It was a simple garment but at least a sight better than the curtain Thancred was wearing around his waist. 

“You cannot keep wandering around the Holy See in that, or you will catch your death of cold,” Emmanellain said by way of explanation. 

Thancred slipped the coat over his shoulders. It suited him quite handsomely-- Emmanellain had done well. He stood back and admired his handiwork. 

“It’s nice,” said Thancred, giving Emmanellain a curious look. 

“What?”

“I am… a bit surprised to be receiving this after we punched one another in the face.” 

“I thought we had moved past that,” said Emmanellain somewhat irritably. 

“Tell that to my face.” Thancred rubbed at the bruise darkening his jaw. “You have a hell of a right hook for a spoiled lordling.” 

“Spoiled?” Emmanellain said, his voice going up a pitch. 

Thancred shrugged. “Do you deny it?” 

Infuriated, Emmanellain grabbed fistfuls of the coat to wrest it off of his ungrateful shoulders, but Thancred caught him by the wrists and shoved him up against the door. 

“Why are you so--” Thancred spoke through clenched teeth, his brow furrowed. 

Emmanellain twisted out of his grip. “I was trying to be nice,” he said. “See if I ever do that again.” 

They stood there for a moment, breathing hard and staring one another down. Thancred wet his lips and Emmanellain watched the slide of his tongue in morbid fascination. 

“Perhaps you would like to knock me around some more?” he asked. “Did our little tiff earlier not satisfy you?”

“As I recall, you were the one who struck first,” said Thancred. 

Emmanellain felt heat rise in his cheeks. If Thancred wanted him to make the first move, then so be it. He took a step closer, slipping a hand under Thancred’s chin to tilt his head up. His visible eye widened. 

“I can think of other ways to show you my gratitude,” Emmanellain said. His attempt to sound nonchalant was foiled by his breath hitching mid-sentence. 

“Show me, then,” said Thancred. His face had taken on an almost smug look, as though he somehow suspected Emmanellain had only come to proposition him. Which he had not. His intentions had been pure. Mostly. 

“Go sit on the bed,” he ordered. Thancred obeyed him without protest, leaning back on his arms and letting his legs fall open. He was definitely smirking now, which kind of made Emmanellain want to punch him again, although his knuckles hadn’t fully recovered from the last time. 

Emmanellain brushed his hair over his shoulders and pulled off his coat before kneeling in front of him, balancing a hand on Thancred’s thigh. He couldn’t help but squeeze a little, feeling the firm muscle beneath his fingers. When Thancred raised an eyebrow at him, Emmanellain cleared his throat and hooked a finger in the waistband of his trousers, tugging them down. 

“Oh, it’s white here as well,” he murmured, stroking the thatch of hair above Thancred’s cock. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” 

His cock was thick for a Hyur and already filling with blood. Emmanellain tongued a vein down the side of it and was rewarded with a soft groan from above him. Encouraged, he closed his mouth over the head and worked Thancred to full hardness with his hand.

Thancred was surprisingly gentle, petting Emmanellain’s hair and carding his fingers through it as he spoke. 

“You do look good like this,” he said. Somehow, rather than annoy Emmanellain, it made him shiver, made him make a noise he would never admit was a whine. He was thankful he could not see Thancred’s undoubtedly self-satisfied expression. “Gods, that feels amazing.” 

As he breathed in Thancred’s heady scent, tasting him salty and bitter on his tongue, his own cock strained against his trousers. Emmanellain unlaced them and took himself in his free hand, squeezing so roughly it almost hurt. 

He forced Thancred’s cock deeper until his jaw ached and he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He gagged, his throat convulsing, and just that momentary lack of air had him closing his eyes and spilling into his hand. Thancred inhaled sharply. 

“I’m close,” he said in a tight voice. Emmanellain, still in a post-orgasmic haze, leaned forward and held onto Thancred’s legs like they were anchoring him to the ground. 

Thancred pulled out just enough to rest the tip on his tongue, where he gave himself a few rough jerks before coming all over Emmanellain’s mouth. 

Bending down, he brushed Emmanellain’s bangs back and planted a kiss in the middle of his forehead. 

“You’re welcome,” said Thancred.


	2. An Exercise In Self-Loathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone on tumblr mentioned the tattoos being sensitive and i Died a little

Emmanellain sat on the bed, wondering whether or not the rest of the manor was already asleep. As understanding as Count Fortemps was, Emmanellain doubted he would approve of his son having a purely physical relationship with a man some ten years older than him (though the look on Artoirel’s face might be worth any punishment he received).

The man in question knelt on the floor between Emmanellain’s legs, his head practically cradled in Emmanellain’s lap. Odd, perhaps, but Emmanellain was anything if not willing to indulge Thancred’s desires. They had an arrangement, see.

“You look like a dog,” Emmanellain said. He scratched behind Thancred’s ear. “Begging for food from its master.”

“Woof,” said Thancred.  

“This does seem an awful lot like a collar.” Emmanellain plucked at the white band around Thancred’s neck. “I should like to attach a leash to it and lead you around.”

As he spoke, his fingertips brushed the tattoo at the side of his neck and Thancred’s shoulders stiffened. Emmanellain grinned.

“Sensitive, is it?” He ran his fingers over it again and slid his boot between Thancred’s legs, grinding his heel against him. Thancred raised his hips to rub shamelessly against it.

“You’re getting off on this,” Emmanellain said, dragging the tip of his boot down the seam of Thancred’s trousers where his cock was beginning to thicken. “Disgusting.” He ground his foot in harder and Thancred made a choking noise, nearly doubled over. “If I told you to lick it, you would, wouldn’t you?”

Thancred bent to lap at the shiny brown leather with his tongue. Emmanellain flushed, eyes bright. “Ooh, what a pervert.”

Thancred did not reply but skimmed his hands up Emmanellain’s leg as Emmanellain leaned forward, his knee pressed to Thancred’s chest. “You like being stepped on, hm?” As if to prove his point, he put his weight on his foot again, grinning as Thancred squirmed beneath him in response. “I bet I could make you come like this,” he said. “But you want me to touch you directly, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Thancred gasped. “Emm, please.”

“Very well,” said Emmanellain. “Strip.”

Even as he gave the order, Emmanellain’s heart pounded in his chest. He always sounded more collected than he felt, used to letting others tell him what to do and not commanding this sort of power--but that was why he wanted this, wasn’t it.

As for Thancred’s motives, he did not pry. If Thancred arrived at the Fortemps Manor in the middle of the night, looking as exhausted and bedraggled as if he’d been in a fistfight with a troll, Emmanellain knew better than to ask. If he needed to be taken out of his head that badly, then Emmanellain would do it for him.

“Tell me what you want,” Emmanellain said, taking in the expanse of Thancred’s skin, brown and criss-crossed with scars lighter in color. A bead of white leaked from the tip of Thancred’s cock, now flushed with blood.

“I want,” Thancred began, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. It came away slick with spit. “I want you to fuck me,” he said.

“I think you can come here and do that yourself,” Emmanellain said. He leaned back against the headboard and crossed his arms, watching Thancred’s gaze dart over him, hungry and uncertain.

“Right then.”

Thancred crawled across the bed and planted his knees on either side of him so that he straddled Emmanellain’s lap. When he leaned forward to brace himself on the headboard, Emmanellain could smell the sharp scent of leather and sweat, and it made heat spike in his stomach.

From his position, the proximity of the tattoo on Thancred’s neck was too tempting to resist. Emmanellain turned his head to drag his tongue over it, then made a seal with his lips and sucked, teeth digging into the skin. Thancred inclined his head to give Emmanellain better access, letting out an appreciative moan.

“Wait a moment.” Emmanellain reached into the drawer by the bed and produced a vial of fluid, which he pressed into Thancred’s hand. “Use this,” he said.

Careful not to spill any oil on Emmanellain, Thancred coated his fingers and worked two inside, his legs spreading wider to accommodate them.

“There’s a good boy,” said Emmanellain. He trailed a hand over Thancred’s chest and mouthed at his jawline.

With the addition of a third finger, Thancred actually whimpered, pushing his hips down and writhing in Emmanellain’s lap. Emmanellain could feel himself hardening as Thancred rubbed against him.  

When he was ready, Thancred didn’t bother removing the rest of Emmanellain’s clothes, opting to simply unlace the front of his trousers.

He positioned the head against his entrance and sank onto Emmanellain’s cock with a sharp inhale. Emmanellain’s thumbs pressed into the hollows of his hipbones, hard enough to bruise.

“Fury,” he groaned. “You’re so tight.”

“Don’t,” Thancred’s breath hitched, “don’t come too fast.”

“That was _one_ time.”

After he had seated himself fully, Thancred’s hips twitched up and he began to fuck himself on Emmanellain’s cock, back arching and lips parting in pleasure. Emmanellain tilted his head to nip at Thancred’s throat.

“Ah--” Thancred clutched at the front of his shirt, grinding against him. “Gods, yes--”

As much as he liked to see Thancred do all the work, the position wasn’t conducive to Emmanellain reciprocating in any fashion. He put his hands on Thancred’s shoulders and shoved him back, following after so that Thancred lay stretched out beneath him.

His hair mussed and mouth bitten red, he looked positively debauched, with marks from Emmanellain spotting his neck and shoulders. Emmanellain took hold of his thighs and drove into him again, spurred on by Thancred’s hissed demands for ‘more,’ and ‘harder.’

“You’re needy tonight,” Emmanellain said, almost to himself. Thancred must have heard him because he faltered, expression darkening, but then Emmanellain’s cock dragged over a spot inside him that made him cry out and grasp at the sheets. Emmanellain silenced him by licking into his mouth for a clumsy kiss.

Thancred tightened around him, and Emmanellain felt himself nearing the edge.

“I, I’m close,” he said, voice strained. He almost pulled away, but Thancred’s legs locked around his waist, urging him deeper.

When Emmanellain came, Thancred made a low, desperate noise, closer to a whine than anything else. It only took a few more strokes of Emmanellain’s hand for him to follow, spattering his stomach with cum.

They lay together for a few moments, panting.

After particularly rough sessions that left both of them exhausted and sore, Emmanellain sometimes held him, and that was something else they never spoke of. Emmanellain would pull him close, Thancred curling into his chest while he stroked his hair or rubbed his back. Once, he had chanced a kiss, but Thancred immediately went rigid in his arms. He didn’t try it again.

“What I said earlier… was that bad?” Emmanellain asked.

Thancred sighed. “No. Just a little too close to the truth, I suppose.”

“I only meant it as--”

“I know, I know.” Thancred looked weary.

“It’s alright with me, you know.”

“What is?”

“If you want to need me sometimes,” said Emmanellain.  

“...I shall keep that in  mind."

Emmanellain was, for once, at a loss for what to say. He wrapped an arm around Thancred instead.


	3. Location, Location

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *emmanellain voice* thancred is real he sucked my dick behind the forgotten knight

 

“You,” said Emmanellain, “are drunk.”

Emmanellain had less than impressive tolerance to begin with, and Thancred  was not so used to drinking in colder climes and might have overestimated how much he could handle. The two of them stumbled out of the Forgotten Knight in the dark, Thancred leaning on him for support. 

“Drunk as a Sylph in the summer,” Thancred said, jabbing him in the chest with his finger. “You had just as much as I did, young lord.” 

“Stop calling me that,” Emmanellain said, swaying a little. “Or I shall--”

Thancred snorted. “Complain me to death? Your skills in combat are no match for mine, I can assure you.” 

Unable to come up with a retort, Emmanellain grabbed him by the lapels and stuck his tongue in Thancred’s mouth. 

Thancred made an embarrassing noise and slumped into him, wrapping his arms around Emmanellain’s neck and clumsily returning the kiss. His enthusiasm made up for his lack of coordination.

“Ouch,” Emmanellain muttered as Thancred’s teeth knocked against his. “Though I fear my reputation can suffer no more at this point, I do think we should move out of the middle of the street.” 

“Mm,” said Thancred. Emmanellain took it as an affirmative, dragging him by the arm into the shadow of a nearby building and pressing him up against it before continuing a thorough investigation of his mouth. He tasted of wine, sweet and sharp, and Emmanellain licked the stickiness from his full lips with a fervid determination. 

Thancred eventually drew back to press a cheek to his, breath blowing hot in Emmanellain’s ear. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he said, the words slightly slurred, “like a…” he trailed off, unable to complete the thought in his current state, for which Emmanellain was grateful because it could not have been going anywhere good. 

“That amount of wine will render you impotent,” he said. Thancred responded by rolling his hips, causing Emmanellain to give a sharp intake of breath. _Or, evidently not._

Thancred pitched forward, then slid to the ground with a muffled thud. “You have long legs,” he said from somewhere around Emmanellain’s knees. Emmanellain let out a gusty sigh and leaned back against the wall. 

“Look at us, Thancred,” he said. “We’re a mess.” 

"I suppose." Thancred took hold of Emmanellain’s hand and brought it to his lips, mouth closing around his middle and index fingers. 

“What,” said Emmanellain. He licked his lips and shifted a little, staring down at Thancred. “Do you want to suck me off here, or, or something.” 

Thancred curled his tongue around Emmanellain’s fingers, his eyelids fluttering closed. Emmanellain was still for a few tense moments before he began to prod into the wet heat of Thancred’s mouth, sliding his fingers in and out. He felt rather than heard Thancred’s hum of approval. 

Sighing, Emmanallain smoothed Thancred’s bangs back with his other hand. “Someone could see us like this, you know.” 

Thancred moaned aloud and Emmanellain’s cock gave an interested twitch. 

“I want to,” Thancred said, resting his forehead on Emmanellain’s hip mere ilms from his thickening cock. “Let me.” He mouthed at the hard outline through Emmanellain’s trousers.  

Bracing his shoulders on the cold stone wall, Emmanellain spread his legs, allowing him better access. Thancred undid the laces with fingers that were slightly less deft than usual and began to lap up the fluid that had collected at the tip. 

“Oh, Fury,” Emmanellain breathed as his lips closed around the head. The contrast between the freezing night air and his hot mouth on him made him shudder. “Watch your teeth.” 

Moonlight caught the sheen of spit on Thancred’s chin. “You’re drooling,” Emmanellain said. He carded a hand through his hair. “Ah--enjoying yourself that much?”

He was surprised, really. It could not have been comfortable, kneeling on cold stone in a dark alleyway, but when he pressed the bottom of his boot between Thancred’s legs, he was still hard. The muscles in Thancred’s throat constricted as he took Emmanellain deeper, swallowing him almost to the root and working his tongue along the underside. 

Emmanellain clutched at Thancred’s shoulders as he came, gasping his name quietly. Thancred swallowed as best he could, then cleaned the rest with his tongue. Emmanellain shivered as it swept over oversensitive flesh.

“Sorry," Thancred said. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That was probably... indecent of me."   
  
"No need to apologize. I quite liked it." Emmanellain hoisted Thancred up by the arm. “To me, loverboy,” he said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Thancred let out a derisive snort. “Let us return to the manor and warm each other up.” 


End file.
